Kenzie needed a distraction.
She was about to be a distraction.
She glanced to the cocoa in her hands. Her bag was coming around the carousel. She balanced the cocoa on the arm of her chair and stepped toward the cell-phone-camera wielding brunette. She pulled off the baseball cap she’d worn on the plane, a curtain of red hair falling over her cheek.
“Are you from Colorado?” she asked the woman before she had a chance to do anything more than get her phone into her palm.
The woman stilled, her expression suggested she’d known exactly who Kenzie was the whole time.
She said nothing. The shock on her face said everything for her—she couldn’t believe Kenzie was speaking to her.
“This is my first time here,” Kenzie continued as though this were a normal two-way conversation.
Her bag moved closer.
“Are you…?” The woman asked. She was so not being subtle with her cell phone.
“Mackenzie Bennett. That’s me.” Kenzie stepped in front of the woman so she couldn’t easily get a photo of Tucker’s parents. “Would you like a photo?” She nodded to the phone in the woman’s hand with the open camera app. “I love doing selfies.”
She loathed doing selfies. But she’d take one for the team here. Team Tucker.
“Really?” the woman asked.
Kenzie nodded.
They got cheek-to-cheek comfortable. The woman raised the phone. Kenzie smiled huge. The shutter sound clicked on the app.
“Thank you so much!” The woman gushed, checking the photo.
Kenzie glanced at the screen. She looked fine. But fine didn’t cut it in this business. She sighed inside. Given that she had little makeup on and her hair was not even remotely camera ready, she could bet large sums of money she’d just made In Time’s “Worst Dressed of the Week” column.
Wasn’t Christmas fun?
8
Chapter Eight
Kenzie was “oohing and aahing” at the cell phone screen. She laughed and continued to block the direct line of sight to his parents. She wasn’t enjoying it though. Kenzie was a great actress, but he’d noted the concern on her face when she’d watched his mother accidentally beat the crap out of his father with her crutches. Now she protected his mother from embarrassment.
Tucker may not have been 100 percent falling for Kenzie before the trip. Even when she’d climbed right under his skin and kissed him at her front door. Even when he’d tripped over his own heart at Taylor’s party when Kenzie had been so vulnerable. Even when he’d read the words she was worried no one would like and had gotten a glimpse right into her soul.
Kenzie wasn’t a Hollywood fake. She was real—every part of the glamour and every bit of the down-to-earth. They were different facets to the diamond that she was.
But Kenzie taking care of his family? Yeah, he was about to be all in. The realization hit him in the solar plexus.
This was bad. This was not light.
When she did things like this, it made him believe that someone else in the crazy entertainment industry put others first sometimes. He got so fucking tired of having to watch his back all the time. No one ever did things like Kenzie had just done.
And she’d done it for his mother.
In front of his father.
His father, who was not a fool and would know exactly what had gone down.
Which meant, Kenzie would have both his parents tucked in her pocket. Along with an idiot cowboy who was the tiniest shove from tipping over the precipice of giving this pretty girl with sharp green eyes anything she ever asked.
“Let me get that.” Tucker grabbed Kenzie’s suitcase from the conveyer.
“We’re taking selfies. You should get in on this.” Her eyes sparkled at him, practically broadcasting what she’d done. She tugged off her coat and dropped it on the suitcase.
He couldn’t help himself, he ran a hand over her arm. Damn, her sweater was soft. Like her.
Deep breaths, Tucker.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Kenzie used animated gestures as she talked to the woman with the camera.
The woman paused an abnormally long time before she spoke. “Connie.”
Poor Connie’s mouth stayed open like, well, his mother’s had done when she’d caught sight of his starlet. Didn’t take much to understand why. Kenzie giving you her undivided attention was panic-inducing the first time. She had a way of looking at a person and making them feel like they were the only one in her world.
That kind of attention was addicting.
“Are you my daddy?” The little girl holding the woman’s hand tugged at his arm. Her face held the hope of a child at Christmas.
He took a close look at Connie. No, he hadn’t… “Uh. Ha. Negative.”
He scratched an invisible itch behind his ear.
Kenzie gave him side-eye. The edges of her eyelids crinkling just the tiniest bit.
“I’m so sorry. Ever since she read that book about a bird who goes around asking who his mother is, she asks everyone that question.” Connie knelt to the child. “Daddy’s at his meeting. Like we talked about.”
She mouthed an “I’m sorry” and hustled to grab a suitcase on the other side of the conveyor belt.
“Tuck?” His father’s voice rumbled behind him. “You gonna introduce your mother or what?”
He’d go with the “or what” option if that were truly a choice. As it turned out, his parents had decided to meet him at baggage claim and drive him and Kenzie to his ranch themselves. His brother was about to get an unpleasant phone call about follow-through. He’d promised to personally deliver Tucker’s truck. A two-hundred-dollar bottle of scotch had been negotiated in return for the delivery. Looked like Tucker and Kenzie had a night ahead of them with a bottle of expensive booze.
“Mom. Dad. This is Kenzie.” He rested his hand at the center of Kenzie’s back.
This was nice. The two of them. His parents.
He shook his head.
This was not real.
“Mr. and Mrs. McKay.” Kenzie shook his father’s hand and then, holy shit, she leaned forward and hugged his mother. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
His mother stood unmoving.
Kenzie, unfazed by his mother’s inability to form words continued, “Tucker’s told me so much about you both.”
That was lie number one. He’d told her literally nothing about them—other than his mother wanting him to bring Kenzie home for Christmas.
“I mean, okay, so he hasn’t actually told me that much. He’s very protective of your family and likes to keep his personal life private. As someone with a mother who doesn’t keep anything private—at all—I can appreciate his insistence on protecting all of you from the craziness of what we do for a living.”
She paused. Smiling as though she was chatting with Jackson Hayes on the red carpet, giving sound bites, playing the part. Not chatting up his very small-town parents. “Tucker said my visit was a surprise for you. I take it someone spilled the tea?”
“Cord let it slip.” Clint pursed his lips. “Ruined the whole thing.”
Tucker would have words with his brother.
“I like your movies.” Tucker’s mother finally spoke to Kenzie. Her gaze flicked to Tucker, as if searching out how much she could safely say. “And I really like your teeth. They’re so white. And your hair. It’s very red.”
Okay, well, he hadn’t expected that.
Kenzie raised a hand to her red hair. “You are so sweet. Do you want to sit with me while Tucker gets the bag situation figured out? He didn’t mention you’d hurt your foot.”
His mother’s face gentled. His father grinned like Santa the day after Christmas, when he had a whole year to chill before go-time again.
Yes, Tucker’s family was falling for Kenzie, just like he was.
Holy crap it was freezing. Kenzie’s California genes did not love the frigid Colorado blizzard temperatures.
She shivered in
her down coat while Tucker guided her to his parents’ truck—one of those double-cab things with a set of two doors on each side—parked in the front row of the airport parking lot. Tucker wore no coat, just a sweatshirt. His father didn’t have a coat on either, and his mother only wore a light jacket.
Meanwhile, Kenzie’s teeth were clacking together even though she was inside a down parka.
His father had tossed the luggage in the bed of the truck and worked to cover it with a tarp. Tucker hopped up into the bed to help tie it down.
“Would you like to sit up front?” His mother led the way to the front passenger door.
Kenzie glanced to the woman’s wrapped ankle. “No, you should sit there, Mrs. McKay. More room to stretch. I’ll sit in the back with Tucker.”
“Call me Lori. Mrs. McKay was my mother-in-law.” Lori took a deep breath and stared a few beats too long at Kenzie.
She was used to it. Eventually, the novelty of what she did for work would wear off. It always did.
Tucker slid between the two of them and opened the front door for his mother. He gripped her arm to help her in, keeping the weight off of her ankle.
Kenzie climbed into the backseat. Tucker settled in beside her, and his father took the wheel.
“The family is excited to see you. They’re all popping by in the morning to say hello,” Lori chattered, her nerves showing.
Tucker frowned at his mother. “They’re popping by because it’s Christmas.”
Lori reached over the seat to grab Kenzie’s hand where it lay near the headrest. “Mostly because you’re here though, dear.”
Well, that wasn’t frightening at all.
“We’re stopping at the grocery on the way home. Do you two need anything?” Lori released her hand and dug through her canvas over-the-shoulder purse.
Tucker frowned some more. “Cord said he’d stock the fridge. But I’m not trusting him to follow through on anything at this point.”
“If he said he’ll do it, he’ll do it.” His father replied.
Tucker’s lips pressed together. “He said he’d drop my truck off, too.”
They backed out of the spot, heading for the exit.
“Don’t be mad. That’s my fault. I insisted we pick you up.” Lori turned in her seat and held out a package of Doublemint. “Gum?”
“Thanks.” Kenzie slid a silver-wrapped stick of gum from the package. And a second for Tucker.
She handed it to him.
He unwrapped it, shoved it in his mouth, and crumpled the foil.
“How many brothers do you have?” Kenzie asked, doing her best to draw him into the conversation.
“Two brothers and three sisters. You can ignore all of them.” He focused on the snow falling outside the window.
The slush under their wheels crunched as they drove slowly around a roundabout.
“Why would I ignore them?” She’d never had brothers and sisters. If she had, she would’ve loved them. Played with them. Spent all her time with them.
All she’d had were a bunch of producers and directors telling her what to do and where to stand.
“Best ignore the boys. A pretty girl shows up, those idiots go to automatic stupid.” His father replied for Tucker.
Tucker nodded. “It’s the truth.”
Lori turned in her seat again, to face Kenzie. “They don’t mean that. Our children are all very smart.”
“I do mean that.” Clint pulled to a stop at a red light. “Those boys can’t keep their heads screwed on straight when anyone with a pretty smile and a set of boobs walks in the room.”
Tucker dropped his head to his hands. “Dad. Really?”
Kenzie’s focus pinged between them. Why try to get a word in when the show was so damn fun to watch?
“I think you’ll find that the McKay kids all turned out great. Good stock. Healthy. The gene pool is really quite good. I’m probably biased, but Tucker will be a great father. Genetically, it’s practically guaranteed.” Lori winked at her.
“Mom, I’m not a stud bull. You don’t need to pimp me out to Kenzie.”
His father hit the gas, the wheels spinning in the snow, setting them back against the cloth seats. Kenzie gripped the seat belt crossing her chest.
“Can’t see where it’d hurt.” Clint glanced back to them in the rearview mirror. “You’ve been so busy dancing around on those stages. It’s time to stick around at the ranch. Time to settle.”
“I think he means settle down,” Lori corrected, with a gentle hand to Clint’s shoulder.
“What else would I mean?” He glowered at her, but he did it in such a way that Kenzie knew if Lori asked him for anything, he’d do it.
“Well, it kind of sounded like you meant that he’s settling for Kenzie. But she’s not the kind a man settles for.” His mother turned in her seat. “Isn’t that right, dear?” She turned back to her husband. “She’s the real deal. He wouldn’t be settling at all.”
Clint huffed, his palm shifting them into second. “I never said he would be.”
“No, you just implied it with the way you worded your sentence.”
Kenzie’s gaze shifted to Tucker.
Eyes closed, his head had dropped against the window beside his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.
Kenzie could relate. She generally felt that way around her own mother.
Perhaps Hollywood wasn’t so bad, after all. Tucker shifted, and his hand skimmed the side of Kenzie’s palm where it rested under her jacket. She pressed her hand closer to his. Gaze breaking away from the window, he caught the spark in her eyes and traced a fingertip in slow circles over her knuckles. A smile tickled the edge of her lips.
His parents were still yapping in the front seat, but right then he tuned them out. Focused on Kenzie.
Every nerve in his body was on alert. If she could do that to him with just a touch, he was done for if they ever managed to get naked together. She turned her hand palm-up and settled her fingers between his.
Contentment. That’s what this was. The same feeling he had when the notes flowed on a new song. God, it’d been forever since he’d felt content.
Mom pointed to a glowing Safeway sign. “Turn here, hon.”
“I’ll turn at the other entrance.” His dad jerked his chin ahead in illustration.
“No, that one spits you at the wrong side of the store. Do this one so you don’t have to go over those speed bumps.”
Parents distracted by parking lot decisions, Tucker leaned over so his lips met Kenzie’s ear and only she could hear. “Sleeping arrangements? My parents have a guest room for you at their place. I have a guest room for you at the ranch. Or there is plenty of room in my bed. Your choice.”
The skin of her cheek brushed his lips when she turned to whisper in his ear. “Not your parents’ place.”
His stomach dropped. In a good way.
Not his parents’ place. He could live with that.
They pulled to stop, and his mother reached for the door handle.
His father laid a hand on her arm. “Stay put, it’s icy.”
He was using his I’m-being-reasonable-so-please-cooperate tone.
Mom shook her head. “You’ll buy the wrong kind of ice cream.”
His face was weathered, wrinkled, from years of working outside. But when he looked at Tucker’s mother, the lines smoothed. Even if his words were gruff, his expression mellowed. “It’s the one with that rabbit on the side. I’ll remember.”
“No, we need spinach and avocados, too. I’m coming.” His mom turned to Kenzie. “I’ve been making celebrity diet shakes. Have you tried them?”
Heaving a breath, his father left the cab of the truck, circling around the hood to Tucker’s mother’s door.
“With ice cream?” Kenzie’s eyebrows puckered together.
“That wasn’t in the original recipe, but that one didn’t taste good at all. Add a little ice cream and it does just the trick.” Mom pushed open the doo
r and scooted from the truck. His father handed over her crutches and pushed the door closed.
“Ice cream makes everything better.” Tucker squeezed Kenzie’s hand.
His parents disappeared through the sliding doors of the grocery store, past the inflatable Santa and the Salvation Army guy with the collection bucket ringing his bell.
Kenzie squeezed his fingers back. “I’ll have to try one of your mom’s shakes.”
“Kale, avocado, spinach, and ice cream. Yum,” Tucker said with fake enthusiasm.
Kenzie grabbed the notebook she kept with her, scribbling something on the pages.
“What’re you working on?”
“Nothing.” Absently, she jotted more notes in chicken scratch he couldn’t make out.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Another screenplay. Sometimes little ideas come to me, hence the—” She held up the notebook.
“That’s fantastic.” He missed doing that, finding fragments of ideas and letting them out on a sheet of paper. Letting the rhythm of the words do their thing.
“Do you ever miss this part? The creating?”
Only all the time. “Yeah.”
She paused. Thoughtful. “Then you should write that song for Eileen.”
No way in hell. Even if his muse hadn’t deserted him. “Eileen’s impossible.”
Kenzie shrugged. “Still, it’d be awesome if you did it.”
“Why are you so interested in this?” He shifted to turn to her, his seat belt cutting across his shoulder.
“No reason.” Her hair hid her expression so he couldn’t read her.
“Kenzie.”
She released a drawn-out breath. “I’m up for the lead in Eileen’s movie. I want it to be successful. And you doing the song would kind of be an endorsement after the whole toaster thing.”
Tucker’s gut tipped. He should’ve corrected that right away. “Even if I wanted to work with Eileen, which I don’t, I haven’t been able to write anything in over a year.”
Might as well let Kenzie in on his dirty secret.
Rock Hard Cowboy Page 6
